Punishing Thirst by Olivia Fox

Author:Olivia Fox [Fox, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Olivia Fox Romance

16

Dante

“Showtime.”

Before Savanna could say anything else, I yanked her body to mine, claiming her lips with my mouth. I’d reach down and grab a handful of her ass, but a passionate kiss at the entrance to Mario’s was pushing it far enough for a would-be politician under the scrutiny of the public eye. It was a new role for me; my palms were sweating and my muscles tensed. With Savanna at my side, and that ring on her finger telling everyone she was mine, I felt invincible no matter what my nerves were trying to tell me.

Her goofy friend, Kate, practically skipped into the bar ahead of us. Thank God she was staying in the studio above Teresa’s bakery. I planned on making Savanna scream tonight.

She was driving me crazy. I’d tell myself to be less of sex-crazed animal, then she’d walk under my nose, parading her floral musk through the air so I had to have her.

I’d behave myself at this event.

My business was the bread and butter for the Dragos, and it was about to go big time. Mario’s, and every other legit Drago company like mine, was where the operation washed its money clean.

Savanna and I made the rounds with my Uncle Lorenzo first and then Don Alberto, my grandfather. Lorenzo took care of the minor leagues, and my grandfather took over when we moved on to the heavy hitters: Senator Thomas, the Board of Supes, Assemblyman Field. Unsurprisingly, they all voiced their support.

As if they had a fucking choice.

Finally, my grandfather signaled we’d finished. He beckoned a server over to a private table at the bar and asked for two scotch on ice. “This is a mere formality, Dante.”

Scary as he was to most people, Nonno revealed his playful side to me. His knobby shoulders shook up and down with laughter, his hair waving in time, locks that by now had thinned and softened to the consistency of downy feathers.

He couldn’t contain himself, his body still shaking.

“What’s funny, Nonno?” I asked.

“It’s that... The prostituta, the girl your opponent pays for on the side.” Nanno struggled for the English word, his accent pure old country. “She provides favors of a certain kind, if you get my meaning,” He elbowed me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s just say, these favors are not at all,” his accent stretches out the first ‘e’ in, electable to sound like, “eeelectable.”

Handshakes and introductions dwindled as the evening went on and my campaign advisor, Cousin Joseph, told me we’d raised seventy-five thousand dollars. My victory was a slam dunk given that my opponent had put himself in a compromising position—bent over between his paid dominatrix and a sheep and captured on film. Not a savvy political move. There was just no coming back from that.

Where was she? I scanned my eyes over the crowd, looking for one tall blonde in particular. Her friend Kate was easy to spot, doing the “Say So” with my Cousin Eduardo. It’d be hard to find someone unrelated at this event.

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